


Teen Wolf weight gain prompts

by CharlRhodes



Series: Teen Wolf weight gain stories - prompts - ideas [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fat Derek, Fat Scott McCall, Fat Sheriff, Feeding, Gluttony, M/M, Magical Accidents, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Prompt Fic, Size Kink, Slob Derek, Spell Failure, Spells & Enchantments, Tumblr Prompt, Weight Gain, dice - Freeform, dice prompt, magical weight gain, obesity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2019-10-28 12:25:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17787377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlRhodes/pseuds/CharlRhodes
Summary: Teen Wolf Weight gain promptsChapter 1: Prompt rulesChapter 2: Prompt 1 - Scott McCallChapter 3: Prompt 2 - Glutonnous DerekChapter 4: Scott McChubChapter 5: Scott McChub 2Chapter 6: Scott McChub 3Chapter 7: Big and BiggerChapter 8: The NogitsuneChapter 9: I HAD to eat them all! I didn't want any of them to feel left out!Chapter 10 : The Cycle of Gluttony





	1. Prompt rules

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the dice prompt generator rules here:
> 
> https://big-guys-club.tumblr.com/post/181980326582/curious-if-you-have-the-rules-for-the-dice-prompt

Teen wolf Dice meme

What you need: 6 dices

Dice 1 represents the character 

1\. Stiles  
2\. Derek  
3\. Scott  
4\. Jackson or Peter  
5\. Theo or Liam  
6\. Isaac or Boyd

Dice 2 represents the themes you should pick, you can take one or more in the list

1\. Feeding, force feeding, stuffing, gluttony, slobbification, laziness  
2\. No werewolves AU or werewolves are known  
3\. Accidental weight gain, bulking, measurements  
4\. Cursed, supernatural influence  
5\. Holidays, thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, 7/4, Halloween  
6\. Alternate universe of your choice

Dice 3, 4, 5 is your character’s weight in the story OR you can add the three numbers together and place a zero at the end of that total to create the number of pounds gained

Dice 6 is the words number. You had two zeros to the number. 

EXAMPLE 

I rolled : 1-1-6-6-2-2

Meaning 

1= Stiles is the heavy character  
1= I pick one or more of the following themes : Feeding, force feeding, stuffing, gluttony, slobbification, laziness  
6-6-2= stiles is either 662lbs OR has gained 140 lbs (6+6+2=14 and add a 0 to make 140)  
2= 200 words (I have a 2 and I add 00 to make 200)

Enjoy


	2. Prompt 1

3-3-3-4-5-2

Scott McCall  
Accidental weight gain  
Weight 345  
200 words 

How can you double your weight just by accident?   
How can you go from a svelte 170 pounds at 16 to a whopping 345 pounds ten years later? 

That was something Scott McCall could not even answer. If he was honest, he could think about few reasons:

\- The stress from being the Alpha of Beacon Hill might have driven him into finding relief in food.   
\- His best friend’s influence in his food’s choices.  
\- His college years where he spent most of his time snacking while studying at the library, or in the local cafés or in dinners and other fast foods.   
\- His demanding job as vet where his lunch break was mostly taken by an emergency obliging him to order pizzas from the pizza parlor next door.   
\- The pack’s meetings where there was enough food to feed twenty wolves.   
\- His bro-time with Stiles where they played video-games and snacked all the night.   
\- The various stops at dinners during his patrolling.  
\- The way food sounded so comforting after a long day at work.  
\- The way people always seemed to give him food because as a young active man with a successful business, he needed to eat good homemade dishes. 

That were the reasons Scott McCall found to explain his weight gain.


	3. Prompt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 03/19 Corrected some mistakes

2-1-5-3-3-5  
Derek  
Gluttony, slob, lazy  
533 pounds  
500 words

 

Stiles rolled a cart full of desserts and other sugary snacks to the living room where his boyfriend/mate was slouched, as always, on their sofa, watching TV from dusk to dawn.  
  
Despite his werewolves powers, Derek didn’t even notice him as he was busy swallowing a heaping spoonful of ice cream into his mouth from the tub of Häagen- Dazs resting on his enormous belly. He finally looked up when Stiles was next to him and took away the empty container.  
  
Derek grunted at the interruption and glared toward Stiles, showing him the big double-chin he had developed as the slender man put a plate of brownies on his round, overfed gut.  
  
Since they had come to this agreement, and even though Derek truly loved his mate, Stiles had become the permanent figure in his life that kept bringing him food and kept him well fed.  
  
After they talked about Derek’s desires to gaining weight, he had sunk into days of absolute sloth and gluttony.  
  
Even now, he was not taking any pleasure in the food he was eating. He had stopped savouring the delicious treats Stiles brought to him, eating for the sake of eating, only wanting to fatten himself up.  
  
Stiles loved it as he kept his boyfriend in this state of pure decadence and could only admire his boyfriend’s unrestrained hunger. He was not the biggest fan of their loss of intimacy, as Derek preferred staying in front of the TV instead of going to dates with Stiles. Now their outings consisted mainly of trips to, the local All-you-can-eat buffet. However, hell, he just loved his 533 pounds mate, his slobbish and selfish behaviour, and the fact Derek’s would be lost without Stiles providing for him.  
  
"What's up big guy?" He said fondly to his boyfriend,  
  
"Not much. Making a pig of myself," Derek replied proudly, “It feels good being this big and hungry all the time. It looks, delicious babe." He said before swallowing a large piece of brownies.  
  
"Well, slow down before choking on the brownies."  
  
Derek snorted at that, wolfing down another tremendous piece. "I’m a werewolf. Also, let me eat in peace until I fill up this couch." He said, patting his monstrous love handle, staining it with chocolate. "Now do me a favour and bring me some more food. I'm in the middle of a movie, and this monster has room for more," he ordered as he swept away the empty plate from his belly.

 


	4. Scott McChub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 03/19 Corrected some mistakes

3-3-3-2-6-3  
Scott  
Accidental weight gain  
3+2+6 = 11 ; 1+1 = 2 ; 2x10 = 20 so 20lbs gained  
300 words

\------------------

 It had been three months since Scott had started college and it had been going great so far. Scott was now in danger and stress-free environment. He could now be more laid back and not carry the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore, and he is smiling again, enjoying his normal (as far as an Alpha werewolf could) college student life with his friends. One could say that Scott was happy.   
  
But it also took a toll on his body. Like his mood, it changed, and Scott was seeing it now.   
  
His scale told him he had put on 20 pounds so far and his mirror and he could admire the damage he had done to his body.   
  
He still had remnants of his old body, with right strong shoulders and a half-decent set of pecs he acquired thanks to lacrosse and the bite, but it was clear that his high school body was starting to go.   
  
His pecs were starting to sag a little, and his arms, though more prominent than they were last summer, appeared softer and less defined than they would have been if he was still fighting for his life regularly.  
  
However, his laziness and college indulgence were mostly apparent around his waist. His pants highlighted the roll of flab that was starting to make its way there, just enough to sit comfortably over the waistband, and he was starting to get flabby around the love handles. His well-defined abs, which Stiles was so jealous of, were now buried under this layer of fat, with little hope, Scott knew that, of being able to surface again.   
  
He was not in denial about his weight. He knew he was getting a bit bigger since September. He was the kind of man who could not say no to a restaurant with friends, or pizza party, class-group meeting at the local coffee shop, or frat parties. He always accepted joyfully, and no-one had told him anything about his weight or his belly. Even Stiles, but he suspected his best friend was enjoying it more than he would admit.

It had been three months since Scott had started college and it had been going great so far. Scott was now in danger and stress-free environment. He could now be more laid back and not carry the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore, and he is smiling again, enjoying his normal (as far as an Alpha werewolf could) college student life with his friends. One could say that Scott was happy. But it also took a toll on his body. Like his mood, it changed, and Scott was seeing it now. His scale told him he had put on 20 pounds so far and his mirror and he could admire the damage he had done to his body. He still had remnants of his old body, with right strong shoulders and a half-decent set of pecs he acquired thanks to lacrosse and the bite, but it was clear that his high school body was starting to go. His pecs were starting to sag a little, and his arms, though more prominent than they were last summer, appeared softer and less defined than they would have been if he was still fighting for his life regularly. However, his laziness and college indulgence were mostly apparent around his waist. His pants highlighted the roll of flab that was starting to make its way there, just enough to sit comfortably over the waistband, and he was starting to get flabby around the love handles. His well-defined abs, which Stiles was so jealous of, were now buried under this layer of fat, with little hope, Scott knew that, of being able to surface again. He was not in denial about his weight. He knew he was getting a bit bigger since September. He was the kind of man who could not say no to a restaurant with friends, or pizza party, class-group meeting at the local coffee shop, or frat parties. He always accepted joyfully, and no-one had told him anything about his weight or his belly. Even Stiles, but he suspected his best friend was enjoying it more than he would admit. Envoyé de mon iPhone 


	5. Scott McChub 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New prompt about our dear Scott McChub.  
> This is another part of the Fat Scott prompts.  
> This was not created with my dice prompt.

Scott could smell the cake Stiles had prepared, downstairs in the kitchen, quickly waking his hunger. He saved the essay he was working on, closed his laptop and walked out to the kitchen.

  
Greeting him on the table was a large triple layer chocolate cake, still warm and fresh from the oven. He knew he should wait for Stiles’ approval before enjoying it. However, it was as if the cake itself was begging him to be eaten. ”Eat me up, Scottie. I am so good and generous. Stiles made me so chocolaty and perfect for you. Eat me!”

  
Scott’s belly gurgled as he licked his lips. Indeed, the cake looked delicious.

  
If someone had asked, he would explain how hard he tried to resist and would put the blame on his wolf instead of his lack of self-control.

  
So he grabbed a knife and cut off a large slice of the cake. He wolfed it savouring the chocolate, sugar and icing in his mouth. So like every time, the first slice of his best friend’s baking got him addicted and put him now in the process of eating the whole thing, and eat it now.

  
He cut off another big slice and gobbled it down as quickly as the first one. His sizeable belly groaned as it swelled out, but Scott brushed it off as he cut off more slices and ate them.

  
Of course, his belly was filling out of his already too tight shirt, buttons barely holding it together as his belly peeked out between them.

  
Thanks to werewolves’ stamina, he quickly finished the cake. The shirt, by now, had become skin tight across his taunted belly. He slowly got up from the table, trying his best not to burst out of his clothes as he realized he overate again. However as soon as he stood up, he felt thirsty. He walked over to the fridge and looked for milk.

  
Unfortunately for him, any form of beverage he could enjoy after such a rich snack. The only thing close enough to milk was a jar of heavy cream. For less then a second he asked himself if he needed it but shrugged it off as he poured the cream down his throat, noticing the increased pressure of his belly against the shirt.

  
As soon as he finished the jar, one button popped off, and shortly after that, as he looked down, two others. As embarrassing as it was and could have been if Scott had been in public, he felt relief as his belly was given freedom.

  
Stiles was right when he called him ’Scott McChub’ as he slowly walked back to his bedroom, rubbing his swollen belly, to rest and digest before thinking about dinner.


	6. Scott McChub 3

If Stiles Stilinski had to describe his best friend, he would say Scott McCall had utterly let himself go since high school and had gotten huge.  
  
His slender, toned body had vanished, with only his muscular arms and strong thighs remaining. Where Stiles could have admired his best friend’s six-pack abs was now a large, round belly. Scott’s face had lost its chiselled good looks, and his crooked jaw had grown soft and chubby.  
  
Stiles knew he was, in some way, responsible for Scott’s weight gain. He was the one introducing his friend to wolfbanes-laced beer allowing Scott to be drunk and to suffer the dreadful next-day hangover. However, if Stiles had been the one proposing it, Scott was the one abusing it. With the pressure of college and a non-existent supernatural threat, the boy liked to indulge himself with good beers and pizzas or enjoying normal college life.  
  
Still, soon, Stiles discovered that wolfbanes-laced beer had an impact on Scott’s metabolism. Even if Scott quitted lacrosse and stopped running for his life, his werewolf’s powers made it harder to put on weight, so when Stiles noticed the first few pounds, he deducted the enhanced abilities of the powder.  
  
*****  
Scott’s clothes certainly fitted him 20 pounds ago. The poor buttons were pulling apart, revealing his fat belly. It was the same for his jeans which looked ready to burst off at any moment.  
  
He wiped a bit of beer out of the corner of his mouth with his forearm while watching TV with Stiles and lazily tossed it into a growing pile on the table, and unleashed a deep belch before attacking the pizza. As soon as the first slice was gone and the sauce was on his face and shirt, he dug into the second slice before grabbing two slices at once and pushing them into his mouth.  
  
So it was not a massive surprise for Stiles when he noticed Scott’s pants were unbuttoned; whether he did them himself or they had just popped open a few slices ago... but in Stiles opinion, it was the latter.  
  
He watched his friend struggling to sit up after his last couple of slices, too full and heavy to even get to his feet without grunting and moaning despite his werewolf’s abilities. Almost immediately after standing up, the buttons on his shirt popped open one by one, flying halfway across the room letting his taunted belly burst free, revealed for a shocked Stiles to see.  
  
"Oh!" Scott said, placing a hand on his exposed belly and glancing at his best friend. "It looks like I overdid it again. »  
  
Stiles had created a monster.


	7. Big and Bigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Stiles needs a bit of confidence, he certainly can find it in old grimoires.

Stiles Stilinski was not a self-conscious guy. He knew he was not perfect. Personality aside, because that was a whole debate, he knew he was not physically attractive.   
  
Sure, he was not ugly, but he was not as good looking as his packmates or some of his new friends at college and Stiles was okay with it. He just blamed his capacity to make friends with attractive people.  
  
In High School, he was tall and thin, gangly, but with some definition due to their busy supernatural schedule and Lacrosse.   
  
However, since college, Stiles had put on weight. Sure everybody puts on weight during freshman year — the famous freshman 15. However, in Stiles' case, it was the freshman 50.   
  
He just enjoyed a supernatural-free world for the first time in a couple of years, far from Beacon Hill. He studied hard, of course, both his regular classes and his off-the-table spark studies. However, he always found the time for friendly gatherings which included most of the time beers, pizzas and other kinds of fast food.   
  
That explained how he was almost tipping 200 pounds as he was going back home for the summer.   
  
It was the first time since Christmas he had seen his friends, and at that time, the 15 pounds he had put on were not noticeable. However, now, in June, it was hard to hide the fact that he was overweight.   
  
That led him to think about his packmates. Since the world was just unfair, his werewolves friends could eat whatever they wanted and could count on an efficient metabolism to not put on a single pound. Moreover, to add more injustice, their werewolfness gave them the look of models. Well, Jackson had already impressive muscles, but in the case of Scott, he went from skinny-fat-asthmatic-kid to Abercrombie-model in a single night.   
  
So Stiles was going be that fat lazy kid of his group. Not that they would judge him. Well, it was sure Scott would not. However, his dad would say something. Jackson would pick on him.  Derek would judge him in the secret language he developed with his eyebrows.   
  
So he imagined different lies he could tell to explain his weight gain; Cortisone that made him swell? No his father would send him to Melissa. Supernatural influenced weight gain? That could work, and not a total lie as he spent nights on grimoires while snacking.   
  
That led to thinking about the glamour spell he read somewhere. It could give his pack the illusion he hadn't put on weight or something.    
He just had to find it in his book as his bus was getting dangerously close to Beacon Hill.   
  
It was a spell a French Princess used to make people think she was the most beautiful woman in the realm back in the early Middle Age. Centuries later a version of this spell was used in Snow White, making it harder to guess it was one. He could simply rework the spell to make his pack not see he was now overweight.   
  
He looked at his reflection in his phone and whispered the spell.   
  
_Mirroir, esclave de mes désirs, fais que ma meute ne voit pas que je suis gros._  
 _(Mirror,_ slave _of my desires, make my pack not see I am fat.)_  
  
Truth to be told, Stiles expected smoke and sparks, but nothing happened. Maybe it worked, or perhaps not. It was old magic after all, and indeed, he was not trained enough to cast such a spell. Also, he was not entirely sure about his French pronunciation, but he was rather proud of it.   
  
As he was in front of his childhood home, thirty minutes later, it was the moment to pray that he was not a pitiful spark-in-training.   
  
"Dad, your son his home!" He shouted, opening the door before being attacked with the smell of fried food and pizzas. He scrunched his nose and saw a pile of various empty snacks in the entrance. He sighed as he was going to lecture his father on the importance of a balanced and healthy diet, again.   
  
"In the living room, son." He heard his father answers.   
  
Stiles didn't know why he screamed. He didn't know if it was because of the mess of food wrappers, boxes, and bags that scattered every possible surface of the room, or because of the obese man looking like his father sitting on their couch.  
  
“God, kiddo, I know you are happy to see me but why are you screaming? you almost made me drop my pizzas.” He told his son, smiling showing him his fat cheeks, chins, and a thick neck.   
  
He was still in his uniforms and was exposing his massive frame to his son as his shirt was opened: two soft, slightly hairy man boobs resting on top of an enormous round belly which was resting itself on two hugely fat thighs threatening to burs out of his still buttoned pants.   
  
Stiles had to double check if the obese man in front of him was indeed his father. Sure it was his voice and his head, but it looked like the Sheriff had put on 200 pounds since he last saw him.   
  
"You look great, son, just like your dad." How could his father think he looked great? Oh God, the spell! It had to be the spell.  
  
"Hey bro," he heard from the other side of the living room, "You're finally here." the man said while finishing an almost empty box of doughnuts. Stiles' face was blank for a few seconds as he recognised his best friend. Everything about Scott was now plump, round, perky and rotund. He was even fatter than his father, and unlike him, he had given up on clothes that fitted, letting his uncovered soft and heavy belly rest on the Stilinski's dining table covered with greasy sandwiches,  pizzas,  candy bars, cakes and pastries - enough for a party of 30.    
  
The fat young man waddled towards Stiles with his thighs rubbing against each other and hugged his best friend, allowing Stiles to feel how big Scott was.   
  
Still, he was confused about how the spell worked. He did not ask for them to become huge, just for them to ignore his weight gain. Still, how can this be the new normal? Because from his point of view the spell had changed his friend and father profoundly.   
  
Scott must have sensed his confusion because he asked Stiles if he was sick. His father agreed, adding that Stiles might have lost weight. Stiles scoffed at that comment. 'If you knew, dad.'  He excused himself to take his bags to his room and freshen up, while the Sheriff put another slice of pizza and Scott opening a new box of doughnuts while throwing the empty one on the floor.   
  
Just as he was about to exit the room, a gigantic, hairy belly, easily bigger than Scott’s, hit him and sent Stiles to the floor. He looked up at the behemoth towering over him and held his breath as he recognised Derek Hale. Though this Derek Hale was at least triple the man he was before, a gargantuanly obese man belittling his father and Scott easily. He grunted at Stiles as if he could not even bother the giant from reaching his aim, and walked to the table, next to Scott as he started digging on the food. The sight of his tank top only covering his massive chest and his sweat pants letting peek out his fat rear, which was almost as big as his belly, were nearly too much for Stiles.  
  
In his room he let himself fall into his bed, feeling a headache coming.   
  
Why did he try advanced spell coming from an obscure MIddle Age grimoire with little information about the effects?   
Why couldn't he have just man up and accept the comments on his weight gain?   
Also, why even with hundreds of pounds of fat on them, his best friend and his crushes looked so gorgeous?   
If the spell changed them physically and mentally, did it change the way they felt about Stiles?  
Moreover, why did Derek's obesity extremely arouse him?   
Was he too focussed on eating to sense his arousal?   
Or did he already know it?   
  
He spent the next twenty minutes rambling about how an idiot he was and asking himself too many questions when he heard his father calling him.   
  
"Stiles, come down, Jackson, Isaac and Boyd just arrived with some food."  
  
That sounded promising, for sure. Plus the gathering with touchy-feely werewolves was the perfect opportunity to get closer to the biggest boys of Beacon Hill.   
  
  
Oh, wait, Beacon Hill.  
   
He ran to his bathroom and looked at the mirror.   
  
Mirroir _,_ esclave _de_ mes _désirs,_ fais que _la Ville de Beacon Hill_ ne voit _pas_ que je suis gros _._  
 _(Mirror,_ slave _of my desires, make the city of Beacon Hill not see I am fat.)_  
  
He couldn't wait.


	8. The Nogitsune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Nogitsune tries to convince Stiles.

_Scott would look so cute at 400._  
  
Not again!  
  
_Those puppy eyes, tho! Do you think he would still have those dimples if he were enormous? Also, that jaw, Stiles? Buried under pounds of fat, a double chin under it! And his round bubble butt you admire? Imaging him, every morning struggling to squeeze his sweatpants over his lazy, over-inflated ass! I'm pretty sure we could magically make sure it's still bouncy and round. And..._  
  
Dude!!  
  
_Imagine how sheepish he would look every time he would get stuck on the front door because of the massive love handles we could give him? How we would have to put our hands and squeeze them to push to help him? And how we would have to reassure him about his weight, not that it would be hard with him, as the puppy is so trusting. Plus he would let us cuddle him. He would let us sink in his glorious fatness. He would love to have us worshipping his huge body. We know how much he loves to be the centre of your attention. And he is easy to make bigger even without our magic, Stiles! We can convince him to eat more and more and fatten himself more and more._  
  
It would take time...  
  
_So you admit you want Scott to be fat?_  
  
Shut up!  
  
_And Isaac? Sweet little Isaac. A chubby cherub._  
  
Stop it!  
  
_Also, when he turns into a full wolf, wouldn't he be the cute obese furball of the world? I'd love to cuddle him. Also, he would be so much happier if we could provide him with all the good food he was deprived of by his father. He deserves it, Stiles! Our little puppy needs the comfort food he deserves! We know we love our sweet little Isaac happy after all the mistreatments he suffered from his father. He would be our little obese Cherub, Stiles! With fat rosy cheeks. We could even give him_ enormous _amount of food_ everytime _the sweetheart has a nightmare. A good food coma to help him fall asleep. I am pretty sure we would create_ an spoiled-obese-brat _. We would love to_ rpvide _him with everything a demand and watch the puppy inflate while we pamper him._  
  
You're sick, man! I don't want to be Isaac's slave!  
  
_Yes, we do, Stiles. He would be so dependent on us. So used for us to provide for him, he would feel compelled to do nothing. We can mould him into what we wish Stiles. That would be so great._  
  
_And Dad? It would be so lovely to have our own fat cop cliché at home!_  
  
Dude, that's dad!  
  
_However, imagine how happy he would be if he could eat as many doughnuts as he wants! And steaks, and burgers, and tacos. Everything we forbid him to eat because of the human diseases we can't cure him off!_  
  
_And we love too tight uniforms, Stiles! Dad would be so proud of us when we bring him his favourite fast food at the station. He would beam and brag about how awesome we are. You know we would love to see his flab jiggling everywhere, his great belly spilling forth from his shirts, buttons refusing to close any more, or popping off after every meal we would cook for him! We would be the son he would have always wanted, Stiles! He would be the ultimate DILF of the town! The sexiest cop that would ever exist!_  
  
We are not having these kinds of thought about Dad!  
  
_And our Derek, Stiles! Our magnificent Alpha! Our big bad wolf! I am sure he has an appetite worthing his title! Just imagine us massaging his belly; his almost-impossible-to-contain-in-the-largest-shirt-ever-created-monster-gut. How it would be so round and how it would balloon out because of all the binge eating we would make him have. He would be treated like the king he is. Derek Hale deserves nice things and we will give him that, Stiles. We will enslave the whole town to obey and fulfil our Alpha's desire. Every day we will make sure people will show their dedication to Derek by bringing him food. We will make sure they worship him. He will be our new God. Our mountainous God. And we will be the only one allowed to touch him, to pat his prosperous gut, to grab his soft-watermelon-sized pecs and to pinch his_ rotund _cheeks.  He will be our big spoon in our bed, grabbing our lithe body with portly hands and engulfing us with his body..._  
  
Okay, okay! You can stop now! I get it, I get it!  
  
_So let's make it real, Stiles!_  
  
Dude...  
  
_Please... Stiles. We would be so happy. Let's make them hundreds pounds bigger!_  
  
Twenty would be enough.  
  
_90!_  
  
25!  
  
_50!_  
  
Okay for 30.

_For now._


	9. Prompt 74 : "I HAD to eat them all! I didn't want any of them to feel left out!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Power-hungry and hungry Scott McCall getting territorial over his food.
> 
> From chubby-derek-and-friends tumblr
> 
> https://chubby-derek-and-friends.tumblr.com/post/183440563496/chubby-kink-quote-prompts

Stiles wasn't exactly the most observant guy out there, blame the ADHD, and it took him few months before he noticed that something was different with Scott.   
He knew something had changed when his best friend had become an Alpha, a True Alpha. With that new status, Scott had started to change. At first, it was like his friend was more confident, and his leadership skills had improved. Derek had explained to them that it was because the pack was stable.  
He looked bigger. First of all, each day, he seemed to be growing taller, making him, by June, way taller than Isaac or even Boyd. He was now towering all of them at 6'5, adding to his clothes fitting problems as it left none of his musculature to the imagination. All his shirts strained to cover his massive arms and shoulders, and were stretched across his broad chest and back. Giant tree trunk wide legs supported his massive torso; certainly as thick as Stiles' 30" waist. His neck has grown thick, giving his face a more masculine appearance. His whole body appeared thick and powerful. But the enormous caloric surplus he devoured every day added even more mass to the Alpha, especially around his waist, where a round bulging belly appeared. Even if Stiles knew it was a failure, he tried his best to conceal how much he loved Scott new body.  
  
But, with each pound and each inch, Scott became more authoritative and territorial. Not that the wolves were saying anything against that. After all, he was their Alpha. But, as a human, it was difficult to see his best friend not allowing him to discuss some of the pack's decisions.   
  
So, Stiles only had himself to blame when he deliberately stole and ate his best friend's blueberries and chocolate chips pancakes plate Mrs McCall baked for the boys.  
  
Of course, Scott was enraged when he discovered Stiles' betrayal, but instead of mauling the human, he did what worked best with Stiles, ignoring him.   
  
"Dude, you can't be that mad!" Stiles said. "It's only pancakes!"  
  
Scott turned around, causing Stiles to involuntarily step back when he saw the look on his best friend's face. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, resting them on the curve of his round belly, making his biceps bulge more, staining his teeshirt's sleeves.    
  
He grabbed Stiles and lifted him like he was a rag doll with one of his thick arms, pressing the boy against his inflated torso. Stiles tried not to cry out in pain as the wolf squeezed all the air out of his lungs with his bone-crushing-hug.  
  
"Only pancakes? How dare you stealing my food?" he snarled. "Come on, Stiles, try to break free." Scott darkly teased as he felt Stiles starting to struggle.  
  
"Let…me…go!" He said, trying to push himself away from Scott annoying the wolf even more.  
  
"Are you going to apologise, now?" He growled.  
  
"YES!" Stiles managed to say, finally being freed from Scott's embrace, causing him to fall to the ground, gasping for air.  
  
"Wh-what…going on, dude? You just can't" Stiles finally asked after catching his breath.  
  
"I'm the Alpha now" Scott laughed, his huge chest bouncing powerfully. "I need strength."   
  
"You also need to go on a diet!" Stiles shouted, before face-palming himself for his lack of brain-to-mouth filter. He could not suppress the tension on his body and the fact he stepped back from his friend, closing his eyes, waiting to be manhandled again.   
  
"Are you calling me fat, Stiles?" Scott purred darkly, rubbing his stomach.   
  
"Hum..."  
  
"Why did you eat my pancakes, knowing it would piss me off, Stiles?"  
  
"I HAD to eat them all! I didn't want any of them to feel left out!"  
  
Scott raised his eyebrow at his best friend's explanation. He loved how powerful he had become. And he loved, even more, his new body: the heigh, the weight and the power. He enjoyed taunting his human. His weak, puny, defenceless human. Sure he was annoyed with Stiles eating his pancakes, because, damn, he loved those pancakes, but scarring his friend like that, knowing his friend enjoyed that was priceless. Planning to taunt him even more, he put his large hand beside Stiles' head, making him come close to him, their foreheads touching. "I understand the feeling, Stiles. There is a hunger I haven't been able to fill recently, and it shows. Not that you don't enjoy it, right?" They started an eyes contest, which Stiles lost rapidly, as he looked away, half ashamed to feel so flustered by the touch of him. "Go to the kitchen and bring me my pancakes!" Scott whispered, half threatening and half teasing, so close to Stiles' plump lips. 


	10. The cycle of glutonny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt it was not so long ago when his kid was a slender, over-active kid. Then, in what had seemed an eye blink, there was this 450-pound sluggish youngster on his sofa who struggled through doors and pulled up two chairs to sit in at the table.

Sheriff Stilinski tugged his too-tight uniform as he entered his house. The station had been taunting the Chief about his extra pounds, if one can call a hundred pounds like that, but the whole force was also getting heavier. He was obliged to request new uniforms for most everyone regularly. In few months Parrish had developed an ample blubbery doughnut paunch himself, making his actual uniform snug and emphasising his new rounded cliche midsection.  
  
Everything was de facto getting snugger at the police station; gun belts, chairs and even the cop vehicles.  
  
The Sheriff of Beacon Hill was now tipping the strapping 300 pounds. Each time his scale was showing he had gained a new pound, he blamed his son for rubbing off on him- and considering Stiles' tremendous size, he had barely gained anything!  
  
He felt it was not so long ago when his kid was a slender, over-active kid. Then, in what had seemed an eye blink, there was this 450-pound sluggish youngster on his sofa who struggled through doors and pulled up two chairs to sit in at the table.  
  
He kenned he had not given too much attention. College and different schedules had meant they never really ran into each other much at home.  
  
He had been conscious that his child never had a classic diet. He had failed to retrieve how many times he had come home to see him lying on the couch playing video games with a clear box of pizza and a mostly empty one he was eating.  
  
The pounds promptly piled on the boy. The Sheriff, as indeed everyone, expected Stiles to react when he had reached 250. Then, 300. Then he blew up to 400 and just kept going with the help of Derek Hale.  
  
His werewolf deputy was no-stranger with the teen-whale's change. How humans gained weight had always obsessed Derek. He fancied the stretch marks, how easily they got out of shape, the laziness, their limited capacity (that his son was willing and determined to stretch it out with his gluttony).  
  
The young wolf kept delivering stuff by their home, such as boxes of chocolate by dozen -"It was on sale" - ice cream in Stiles favourite flavours, towers of pizza, bags of burgers, takeouts...  
  
Stiles never turned it off, and joyfully scarfed down most of it. He had tried to keep his son from getting any fatter. Although he had accepted it as a lost cause, maybe he should not have given up so quickly. However, seeing Stiles quaffing down cartons of melted ice-cream, resting plates on his belly, shirts way to small to cover his blubbery gut, jeans that would not button anymore, outgrowing the jeep had made him accept his kid was just going to get even heftier and be absolutely massive someday soon. It resulted in letting him expand freely, while he and the force slowly chubbed up.  
  
Stiles was presently the most outsized and most slothful kid in Beacon Hill. The policeman even counted it as an 'active day' if Stiles went up and waddled around town for more than an hour and if it did not include stopping for food.  
  
Those moments were rare as Stiles always bemoaned there never was enough food in the house; that his (collapsed) bed was too small, the chairs were uncomfortable.  
  
As the Sheriff, entered the living room, he observed Stiles taking at least three tries to haul himself off the couch as he was blaming it on the fact of having a "big lunch" - aka, as he presumed, polishing all the fatty, greasy leftovers in the kitchen Derek had brought.  
  
The man sighed as the spectacle, mainly because notwithstanding accusing food, Stiles seemed unmistakably thrilled to have attained another level of largeness.  
  
Stiles' appetite was terrifying him sometimes. The Sheriff once had a dream of waking up one morning to find a monstery two-ton whale on his living room.  
  
However, to be honest, it looked like it might come true. He had never really seen his son do much other than sit and eat all day - and the Sheriff did not think anyone could go through that much soda and chips and ice cream and pizza in one day.  
  
Every time he thought Stiles was finally full- Derek always talked him into gorging a bit more.  
  
Derek knew it was bound to occur. He had seen Stiles diet. Stiles guzzled soda and whole milk like it was water and treated fast food like the most essential food group.  
  
The wolf had often offered the elder Stilinski to widen their doorways, to reinforce their staircase, even to remodel their house to have the bedrooms downstairs and to buy new, larger and stronger, furniture.  
  
The only thing he had accepted from Derek Hale was to take care of his son and to supply him with fitting clothing. When it had become obvious Stiles was not going to lose a single pound, the Sheriff had made Stiles promise him to take care of his appearance. He did not want to see his only child becoming a complete slob.  
  
It was undoubtedly the only thing Stiles could have sworn to his father, given he could not promise much else - like getting more exercise (walking was too exhausting) or wearing clothes that fit him entirely. Also, he was definitely not promising his father to eat less.  
  
The Sheriff had his own struggle with ill-fitting clothes. Like his youngster, he was also bursting out of his clothes. His situation had made him tolerant toward him, even if he could swear Stiles was breaking out of his clothes every day.  
  
Nonetheless, he praised his commitment to try to dress himself. It was still a constant struggle to pull his shirts down enough to cover his rotund sphere, especially when stuffed. Finding any pants that did not stretch obscenely tightly over his posterior was almost impossible, and most of the time, Stiles was obliged to let the pants unfastened, as several inches of flab preventing it (thankfully it was hidden by his overhang).  
  
The Sheriff welcomed Stiles as he wiggled his way through the kitchen door, squeezing his bulk through the doorframe with notable difficulty. "Can I get you anything, kiddo?"  
  
Stiles grinned at his father as he pulled out a pair of chairs and slumping into them with exhaustion, burping softly from all the junk food already stuffed into his enormous gut.  
  
Even this short trip from the couch to their kitchen was starting to become enough to drain him as his thick, flabby thighs having to support several hundred pounds. Months of staying on the couch all day out of listlessness and increasing poundage, it was almost a struggle to haul his expansive body up without his dad's or Derek's help. The Sheriff was impressed that he was still trying to pull himself upright alone as his lazy muscles were weighed down by so much adipose. More and more often on the weekends, Stiles was spending his whole day in his bed with the blessing of his Derek. Derek, who was excessively delighted to provide him with as much food as Stiles could crave.  
  
He was not alone in his weight-gain as the Sheriff was blowing up right behind him. Spending the whole day seated with the obscene amount of food he was swallowing each day at home and the station had left the policeman broader with each passing week.  
  
"Hey dad," the young porcine man panted, "What's for dinner?"  
  
"Already?" His father asked, raising a mocking eyebrow. "Don't you just finishing eating?"  
  
The jumbo man brushed the comment away, stiffing a belch, before remarking his old-man was snacking on a doughnut. The Sheriff smirked at him when Stiles told him off for eating it.  
  
"Tell me you didn't eat a dozen doughnuts for breakfast yesterday, and I'll put it down." It was kind of hard to take seriously when his son was bursting out of his clothes. "Can't complain about my diet now, can you?" He teased the imposing teenager who could only concede defeat over his father's questionable diet.  
  
"Anyway, dad," Stiles added through a mouthful of a doughnut he had managed to steal from the Sheriff, crumbs and jelly spilling down his chins. "Derek is bringing fried chicken sandwiches and pizzas. Hopefully, enough." He said, greedily, patting his stomach for emphasis, or rather, its sides, which was as far as his plump arms could reach. Then he was once again slowly waddling back to their almost entirely filled by his bulk two-person couch.  
  
Distantly, the Sheriff wondered if Stiles knew he should be concerned about his decreasing mobility. Yet, as he heard the ring bell, indicating their dinner was ready, he wondered if that really mattered as long as his son was happy and Derek kept taking care of him?  
  
Stiles was enthusiastic about gaining weight and Derek was definitely an enabler, for both Stilinskis.  
  
They had a cycle going on. Outgrowing everything they could outgrow.  
  
  
\-----------------------------  
18 months later.  
  
Heavy, loud footsteps, the vibration of the cutlery and glasses indicating his guests' arrival. One could have though a heavy truck passed by the dinner, or that Beacon Hill had suffered a mini-earthquake. However, it was all Stiles, and his unbelievably elephantine self generating all the commotion.  
  
"Hey...huff...dad!" Stiles wheezed, letting himself be dragged by Derek, his free arm grasping the jiggling mountain of engorged flesh to keep the shaking at bay to almost no effect.  
  
His round face was red and sweaty, his whole body bouncing as he clumsily wobbled over to the Sherriff's table, the chairs realising noticeable cries of protests when he thrust his weight upon them.  
  
 "Oomph! Oh, man..." Stiles huffed and puffed, completely winded, his hand still clasping his rippling paunch while the other was still busy holding Derek's steady hand.  
  
Watching the upper part of his abdomen on the table, his mass move with each onerous breath, the Sheriff, could not help but notice just how colossal his kid had grown since the two men had fallen into the cycle of gluttony.  
  
When he had started to pack on his first dozen pounds, his humongous son had proudly developed a potbelly. Always a sight to behold before, that gigantic bulge was dominating now. It surged forward boastfully, comprising his lap entirely, jutting past his kneecaps.  
  
Its width was just something, too.  
  
His once lanky boy was just oversized, his distended buttoned shirt ready to finish shattering as several buttons were missing, letting the pale mass being seen. His lower half, a walloping posterior, was now filling three poor chairs!  And his face, encased by jiggly jowls and welcoming a burgeoning third chin!  
  
"Sorry to be late, sir." Derek apologised, patting his blubbery boyfriend's exposed lard tenderly. "We may have stopped for snacks on the way. You know Stiles loves his food."  
  
 "Oh, he knows it, Der," Stiles laughed, his voice was now an octave lower because of the expanse of his newly acquired chin, "Look at his size. He loves it just like I do." The comment made Derek grinned, lust filling his eyes.  
  
"Good evening!" The waiter greeted, not even bothering to give the two obese Stilinski the menu as the staff utterly knew they were going to order most of it. Of course, the people of Beacon Hill were well conscious of their craving; he had already brought large plates of appetisers.  
  
While Derek and the Sheriff were chatting about the freshest cases and the station's rumours, the young Stilinski was shovelling entire fists full of curly fries into his mouth before greedily emptying the plate of Buffalo wings.  
  
Even if the men had seen their weight exploding, as the Sheriff had passed 450 weeks ago, the association stopped there. While he still ate like a human being - granted, an obese one, but a human being none the less - as he was still making the minimum effort to be decent, in public, his 689 pound son had long embraced his hoggishness; the belches, the lackadaisical posture, the lust at the sight of food and his clean clothes already covered in stains as he was using it, and his belly, as a napkin, were now his common table manners.  
  
When the waiter came back after Stiles had finished polishing the aperitifs, Derek brought his hand on the younger behemoth's monumental, overflowing abdomen, drumming his fingers at its surface. "You ready for this, Big Boy?"  
  
 Stiles moaned at the touch on his fleshy tank. "Oh, you know it..."  
  
The Sheriff stared at his deputy and his blubbery kid, perfectly knowing that against his behemothic gargantuan son, he had no chance. He could eat and have proved it on many occasions, but his kid was clearly built to empty the whole restaurant...again.


End file.
